


Midnight

by helloitshaley



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, took a big chance with this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley
Summary: Cinderella... Addams style. When Morticia meets a dashing prince in her barn, she'll do anything to see him again for just one night. Luckily, Gomez throws a ball specifically to see Morticia once again. However, Morticia's jealous mother and sister will do anything in their power to keep her under their thumb. With the help of an unconventional fairy godmother, will things be all lovely thorns and singing vultures, or is Morticia doomed to be a servant to her family for her whole life?
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. A Sword to the Throat is an Acceptable Greeting

Once upon a time, because that is how you must start stories such as these, there lived a comfortably noble family on the outskirts of a large kingdom. Mortimer Frump and his wife, Hester, lived an easy life with their two daughters, Morticia and Ophelia. While their life appeared to be all lovely thorns and singing vultures on the outside, on the inside tensions were always running high, which was made much more prominent by Mortimer’s sudden and untimely death.

The death of Mortimer was hardest on their youngest, Morticia. She and Mortimer were always close while Ophelia and Hester were two peas in a very high strung pod. Without Mortimer there to defend her, Morticia fell subject to Hester and Ophelia’s jealous and vengeful wrath. Seeing as losing Mortimer meant losing his income as well, they had to dismiss most of the house staff, leaving all the work up to Morticia as soon as she was old enough to hold a broom. And while this fact meant Morticia daydreamed about poisoning her mother and sister daily, she remained calm and passive and kind in the face of such adversity.

So it had gone for years and years, and Morticia had given up all hope of change. Living as a servant to her own family was how her life was, and she had accepted that. Family was always so important to her father, so how could she betray his memory by running away and leaving her mother and sister to drive their home into ruin? 

“Morticia!” came Ophelia’s squealing voice, accompanied by the clanging of her bell ringing incessantly. “Morticia, I’m hungry!”

“I’m coming, Ophelia!” she yelled toward the stairs as she frantically stirred the eggs she was cooking on the stove. She never could understand the unappetizing food her mother and sister always requested she cook, but she did it anyway. Just once she would like to make a nice yak stew, or a zebra steak, something edible. 

“Hurry up!”

Morticia sighed and scraped the eggs onto two plates. As she set them down on the serving tray, she thought of the amusement she would get from adding in some broken glass, but ultimately decided against it. She would just have to clean up the blood anyway, why make more work for herself?

“What took you so long?” Ophelia impatiently whined as Morticia entered the grand dining room. “I’m starving to death!”

Morticia ignored the own rumbling of her stomach as she wordlessly set the tray on the table. She could feel her mother’s eyes burning a hole in her back as she set the table, and she knew a strong reprimanding was coming.

“Morticia, you should answer Ophelia when she speaks to you,” Hester said calmly.

“I’m sorry,” she said flatly, turning to look at her sister, who was sitting smugly in her ridiculous pink gown. “There are a lot of stairs.” 

“Bah! Details bore me,” Ophelia said snottily, reaching for her fork. “Where is the toast?”

Morticia’s stomach dropped. Instead of letting onto her mistake of just plain forgetting it, she played it off. “It did not fit on the tray. I’ll go get it.”

“Oh, forget the toast,” Hester said, reaching for her glass, which Morticia quickly filled. “I’ll be old and gray by the time you get back with it anyway.”

Ophelia snorted. “Because you weren’t already, Mother?”

Hester sent a venomous glare Ophelia’s way, but didn’t shout at her. Morticia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the unfairness of it all. Since the moment Morticia was born, Hester continued to favor Ophelia for whatever reason. Morticia assumed it was because they were so similar and she was a bit of an outsider. Ophelia could get away with anything whereas if Morticia so much as breathed weird she would be yelled at.

“What are you still doing here?” Hester snapped. “Don’t you have chores to be doing?”

“Yes, Madam,” Morticia said before rushing from the room. 

To say she had chores to do was a massive understatement. Morticia was sure if she wrote everything out on a list it would stretch for miles. With a sigh, she decided to head to the barn first to feed the horse. Little did she know what awaited her once she got out there.

…

“Your Highness, come back!”

Gomez looked over his shoulder as he urged his horse faster through the dense woods. “Sorry, old man! You’ll have to catch me!”

“You must come back, you have an obligation!” the servant called out behind him.

Gomez frowned, urging his horse to go even faster. An obligation, what nonsense. How could his parents expect him to marry someone he barely even knew? He wanted to marry for love, not this blasted obligation they kept talking about! So, if that meant running away for a little while this afternoon to get his point across, then so be it. Gomez had always been one for the dramatics, so this stunt should have come as a shock to no one.

His horse leapt a log and took a hard right, completely losing the servant in the process. Gomez let out a triumphant laugh, looking behind him to make sure he was completely in the clear. What he didn’t realize, however, was his horse was approaching a fence that was just a bit too high to jump. The horse stopped short, throwing Gomez from his back and over the fence without much warning.

With a yelp, Gomez landed flat on his face, skidding a few feet in the tall grass. He stayed down for a moment before slowly pushing himself to a sitting position. He spat dirt from his mouth as he flicked his cape back over his head. He looked back just in time to see his horse run away in the opposite direction.

“This is why lions make better pets, you know!” Gomez shouted after the horse.

In the distance he could hear the servant calling for him, so he knew he had to keep moving if he wanted his moment of peace and quiet this afternoon. Doing a quick scan of his surroundings, he noticed a barn a few yards away. Thinking quickly, he pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and dashed in that direction.

Gomez didn’t much care if his actions were childish, he thought arranged marriages were childish. So he ran and hid, even though he was a grown man. He slipped in through a window in the back of the barn, finding a large black horse being fed by a beautiful girl with two black braids spilling over her shoulders.

Instead of being stealthy like he hoped, Gomez completely fell the rest of the way through, startling the poor girl. “Don’t be afraid!” he yelled as he tried desperately to get his wits about him.

“What are you doing in my barn?”

Gomez looked up to find himself staring down the blade of a rather rusty, old sword. He glanced around, trying to figure out where the sword even came from in the first place. “My lady, I can explain.”

“I trust you will,” she said, thrusting the sword closer to his neck.

He looked up, getting a good look at his attacker's face, finding himself completely thrown by the fact that she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Her dark eyes were staring intently at him, her rose red lips pursed in anger. Though her pale skin was streaked in soot, she seemed to be a specimen of complete perfection.

“My lady,” he said once again, slowly getting to his feet. “I mean you no harm.”

“How am I expected to react to a strange man creeping into my barn when I am all alone?” she asked, her intense eyes searching his face. 

“I was simply running from-”

“An officer?”

“What?” he asked, discreetly reaching for his own sword holstered at his hip. “No, of course not.”

“You seem to be a rather guilty man,” she pointed out, her eyes finally locking onto his own. His heart skipped a beat.

“Well then,” he sighed, drawing his sword with a flourish. “Let me prove my innocence.” 

Her eyes widened in shock. She quickly blocked his attack with a swiftness he wasn’t expecting. Now with a look of determination, she swung back. The sound of clashing metal echoed through the barn as they spun around in a sort of violent dance routine. 

“I don’t see how you’ll prove your innocence by drawing your sword on me,” she said. “If anything I now find you to be even more of a threat.”

“How could I threaten a beauty such as yourself?” he countered.

Seeming to be in total shock from his remark, Gomez was able to disarm her. Her sword clattered to the hay covered ground below. She took a timid step back, holding up her hands in surrender. Keeping to his word, Gomez also threw his sword to the ground and held up his hands as well. 

“You see?” he asked. “I merely need a place to hide for an hour or so. I came here with no ill intent toward you… or your horse. Truce?”

She frowned and crossed her arms daintily across her chest. “Very well, a truce it is.”

He let out a relieved sigh. Who was this beautiful maiden who feeds horses and is covered with soot who also fences like a trained knight? She was an enigma he was eager to unravel. The biggest enigma of them all was the fact that she seemingly didn’t recognize him. As the prince, Gomez couldn’t take two steps without someone knowing who he was.

“Where did you learn to use a sword like that?” he asked. “I will admit to being rather impressed.”

“My father taught me when I was very young,” she said, stooping down to pick up his sword. She handed it back to him with a shy smile. “I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you, good sir.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said with a smile. “I often assume the worst of people.”

“Indeed?” She walked over to return her old sword to its hiding spot behind a bale of hay.

“Oh yes, I find it saves time.”

“So you have assumed the worst of me, then?” she asked with a raised brow. It was very enchanting, he couldn’t look away.

He found himself shaking his head as he took a step closer to her. “I’ve assumed you to be an enchantress, and I’ve wandered into your trap.”

She scoffed, looking away from him. “You would be sorely mistaken. I am just a girl.”

“You are not just anything,” he insisted with what he thought was a winning smile. “You’re a princess who has disguised herself, then.”

She laughed, and it was a lovely sound. “Nothing of the sort.”

“I have it!” he said excitedly, walking toward her. “A vampire!”

She shook her head softly. “Very flattering, but no. As I said… I am only me.”

Gomez absentmindedly pulled a cigar from his vest pocket and struck a match against the palm of his hand. “Never in my life have I seen a woman who looks like you. You’re radiant.”

“And I believe you are a liar,” she said, her eyes down cast. “I’ve never been complimented this way in my life, I have trouble believing your authenticity.” 

“Believe me, cara mia, I am nothing but honest,” Gomez insisted. He took her hand in his, which shocked her completely. 

A faint blush spread across her porcelain cheeks. She kept her eyes on the ground but didn’t pull her hand from his. “This is highly improper. And I know nothing about you, other than the fact that you’re hiding from someone.”

He nodded with intrigue. “You really don’t recognize me, then?”

She finally looked at him, truly studying his face once more. “I do believe I would remember you if we had met before. If I may be candid, yours isn’t a face I would soon forget, if ever.”

“No, I would know if we had met as well,” he said resolutely. “The image of you will forever be seared onto my heart.”

“What did you mean, then?” she asked, her voice verging on breathless. 

“I’m sort of… the prince.”

Her eyes widened in shock. She pulled back, dipping into a curtsy. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I was unaware. I meant no disrespect.”

“Please,” he said softly. He put his hands on her shoulders, urging her back to her feet. “I am unworthy of all that. You can just call me Gomez.”

“If you’ll please forgive me, I should go,” she said in a panic, turning toward the doors of the barn.

“Please don’t,” he said, catching her hand once again. “The last thing I wanted to do was frighten you off. I was rather enjoying talking to you. When I woke up and the day was bright and sunny, I thought the day was going to be terrible. But you have turned it around… just you.” 

He had nearly forgotten all about the arranged marriage. Looking at this woman in front of him, his only thoughts were of her. Perhaps… it was too silly to even dream, but perhaps he might be permitted to marry this woman. No, his parents would never go for such a thing, unless they met her… 

“I was enjoying your company as well,” she quietly admitted. “Even if it started with me holding a blade to your throat.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I liked it.”

She sighed, but a smile passed across her lips. “Prince Charming, is what you are. How could I ever amuse you so?”

“I don’t know if amuse is the right word for how you make me feel,” Gomez said with a grin. “Bewitched is more like it.”

She looked up at him through her dark lashes. “If I may be so bold as to say I find you rather enchanting as well.”

“Be as bold as you like, cara mia.” He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. 

“I’m afraid of what might happen if I get much bolder,” she whispered, and he noticed she was trembling slightly.

“I’m not,” he replied with a grin, still holding onto her hand.

“Yes, but you have that luxury. Life is not as simple for me, it would seem.” 

He could sense a deep rooted sadness behind her words, and he wanted nothing more than to get to the bottom of it and make it disappear forever. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“About what?” she asked, her eyebrow once again raising.

“Anything,” he replied. “I could listen to you for hours.”

She shook her head. “I’m not that interesting.”

“I disagree wholeheartedly.”

The clanging sound of a bell in the distance made her go stiff. “I have to go,” she said ruefully, pulling away from him. “The barn is yours for as long as you need it.”

“I am done running,” he said resolutely, seeing as she was intent on leaving at the beck and call of a bell. “I have urgent business I must now attend to.” He took her hand again and kissed it once more. “I will be certain to make our paths cross again.”

“I must leave,” she whispered, pulling her hand to her chest. “Thank you for a most pleasantly unpleasant morning.”

The bell continued to clang and she bolted from the barn, her black dress swirling behind her as she ran. Gomez watched in awe for a moment before he too ran off, eager to face his parents for the first time in forever.


	2. A Grand Idea with no Ulterior Motives

Morticia was in such a daze as she rushed back to the house, she lost her right shoe and didn’t even realize until she stepped in a puddle. Laughing softly, she back tracked for her black flat before quickly continuing on. She just couldn't wrap her mind around what just happened. She had a one on one conversation with the prince… and he liked her.

She almost couldn't believe it, but it had happened. And she put the end of a sword to his throat. That whole interaction could have ended much differently had the prince decided to be an ass. Morticia couldn’t stop smiling, which was a very strange phenomenon for her, she was almost worried her face would crack in two.

She slipped through the kitchen door, the horrible ringing of the bell souring her mood slightly. “Morticia!” Ophelia was screaming at the top of her lungs. “Where are you, you lazy wench?”

“I’m here, Ophelia,” she gasped, coming to a halt in the grand sitting room.

Ophelia glared at her from her plush, pink arm chair. “Where were you? I have been ringing the bell for nearly an hour!”

Morticia calmly sighed, tugging on the end of her braid. “I was in the barn feeding the horse, Ophelia. I was gone for twenty minutes.”

“Well I need you to bring me my book!” Ophelia snapped, pointing to the book shelf that was all of five feet away.

Morticia crossed her arms, digging her nails into her skin to try and calm down. “I didn’t realize you had been in an accident, Ophelia.”

Ophelia looked at her with a vacant stare as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through her blonde hair. “What do you mean?”

“I feel terrible that you can no longer walk,” Morticia said flatly, stalking over to the book shelf. She yanked down the book Ophelia was in the middle of and calmly handed it over to her sister. “It would have been so simple for you to get that yourself, had you not been impaired.” 

“I can walk just fine!” Ophelia screeched, shooting to her feet. “How dare you?”

“My apologies,” Morticia said with a sarcastic bow. 

“Mother!” Ophelia screamed, her face turning bright red.

Morticia’s stomach sunk. Her good mood was completely destroyed by the sight of her mother angrily stalking into the sitting room. “Ophelia, do stop screaming, it's so unbecoming.”

“Morticia called me a cripple!” Ophelia said, pointing accusingly in Morticia’s direction.

Slowly, Hester turned to glare down her daughter. “And why ever would you say such a horrible thing to your sister?”

“I did not call her a cripple,” Morticia said softly. “I simply implied that her legs stopped working since she couldn’t get up from her chair to get her own book.”

“My corset is very tight, it's uncomfortable to move too much,” Ophelia said, plunking back down in the chair.

“You see, Morticia?” Hester asked, glaring at her. “It's uncomfortable for your sister to move. You should want to do all you can to keep your sister comfortable.”

What Morticia wanted to say was, what about my comfort? However, she held her tongue and nodded politely.

“Words, Morticia,” Hester snapped.

“Yes, Madam,” Morticia said, the words burning like bile as she spoke.

“If I catch you speaking ill of your sister again, there will be severe consequences. As for today, I want all the fireplaces sparkling. I don’t want to see a speck of soot anywhere. And that includes your face.”

Morticia’s mood deflated even further. There were five fireplaces in the house, that task was going to take hours. Morticia nodded and uttered out a weak, “yes, Madam.”

Hester raised an eyebrow before turning to the door. “Best get to it then, I want it done before sundown.”

“Hurry up, Cinderticia,” Ophelia spat before laughing at her own joke.

Morticia wordlessly left, stifling down an angry scream. She couldn’t understand what she ever did to make her mother and sister treat her this way. From the second her father died, she was reduced to dirt by her own family. That stung more than Morticia would ever admit. She at least wanted a reason for their behavior, but that wasn’t something she ever got.

… 

“We shall throw a ball!” Gomez shouted as he stormed into the throne room, catching his parents completely off guard. “A ball for every single citizen of the kingdom, servants included!”

The king raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me!” Gomez said as he swiftly made his way across the black marble. “Everyone is invited! From the lowliest farm hand to the Queen of Bathsheba!” 

The queen laughed as she stood from the blood red throne. “Why ever would you suggest such a thing?”

He knew he couldn’t just out right tell them about the girl from the barn, that would be preposterous. So, he made up a rather noble excuse instead. “They are our subject and they should know that we care for them. Everyone deserves one night of fun, do they not? And besides, our exuberant family excluded, royals are always so stuffy.”

The king and queen shared a look. On the one hand, the though of that many people in the castle was frightening. On the other, never had Gomez taken initiative quite like this before. And the Addams royal family had always tried to be as inclusive as possible with their subjects.

“Very well,” the queen sighed, waving her wrinkled old hand. “Lurch, go into town and make a decree. The ball will be held in two nights and all subjects of the kingdom are invited to attend.”

Lurch stepped forward and groaned before bowing and setting off to do as instructed. 

Gomez beamed from ear to ear, his mustache almost splitting in half. “Thank you, thank you! You will not regret this!”

“We can invite Princess Carolina,” the king said, throwing a wet blanket over Gomez’s happiness. “She can see what a diplomat you are.”

“It's such a far journey for her,” he tried to argue. “We don’t need to bother her with a simple ball.”

“Pish tosh,” the queen sighed.

Gomez looked from side to side, scratching his chin in contemplation. “You seem to be forgetting… the notice of the ball won’t even reach her in time.”

His parents both shared a long, weary sigh. “He’s correct,” the king sighed. “Very well, it will be for our kingdom alone.”

“Thank you!” Gomez shouted enthusiastically. He started to rush back toward the door, eager to leave before they could change their minds. “Thank you! You won’t regret this!”


	3. If Only

“Oh my God!” Ophelia screamed at the top of her lungs. She tore past Morticia, nearly knocking the heavy tray of food out of her hand on her way to the dining room. “Mother, have you heard?”

“Do stop screeching, Ophelia,” Hester said, rubbing her temples. “You sound like a hideous crow.”

Morticia discreetly rolled her eyes as she went about setting the dinner table. She was far too exhausted from scrubbing every single fireplace in the house to not much care what Ophelia was so excited about. It didn’t take much to excite Ophelia anyway.

“But Mother, Prince Gomez is throwing a ball for the entire kingdom!” Ophelia yelled, excitedly bouncing on her toes. “Everyone is invited! Even servants, but that isn’t important. What's important is that I’m invited!”

Morticia dropped the dish she was holding out of sheer shock, angering her mother and Ophelia. “Really, Morticia,” Hester scoffed before turning her attention back to Ophelia. “I think this is wonderful news. We must be sure that you catch his eye at the ball.”

“It's two nights away, we must go out immediately tomorrow to have a dress made for me!”

Morticia was only half listening to their conversation. She was too distracted by the prospect of seeing Gomez again. He had promised that they would see each other again, was this his way of making it happen? A whole ball just to see a serving girl he met in a barn? But those moments had been nothing short of unforgettable, and why else would servants be invited?

“Could I have a dress made as well?” Morticia asked before her brain could stop her.

Hester and Ophelia glared at her with such malice it made Morticia shrink away. “You?” Hester asked with an accusing glare. “Why on earth would you get a dress, Morticia?”

“Well… Ophelia said even servants were invited,” Morticia tried to calmly explain. “I just thought…”

“You just thought?” Ophelia mocked in a high pitched voice. “Ha! You at the Addams Castle, that's hilarious! With your little pig tails and all that soot on your face. Cinderticia trying to talk to the prince, ha!”

“Now, now, Ophelia,” Hester said, raising a silencing hand. “That's enough. Of course Morticia can come. Granted, she’ll have to find her own dress, seeing as we haven’t the budget for another one.”

“I understand,” Morticia said, daring to crack a small smile in spite of all the insults just hurled at her.

“As well as,” Hester continued, “clean the stables, sweep the entire house from top to bottom, do the wash, repair the ripped tapestry in the hall, scrub out the bath tubs, on top of your daily cooking and other chores.”

Morticia balked at her mother. That list would take forever, and she only had a few hours of daylight left. She would have no time to make her own dress tomorrow with that tremendous list on her shoulders. But she was not going to give in so easily. She had to see Gomez again, even if it was just for a moment.

“Very well,” Morticia said instead of voicing her true opinion.

Ophelia, in true Ophelia fashion, smacked her goblet of wine off the table, directly onto the light pink carpet. “Oops,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh, do get that stain out as well, Morticia,” Hester said with a smirk. “After we have finished our dinner, of course. Do all this, and you may go to the ball. You are excused.”

Morticia nodded, swallowing the thick lump of anxiety in her throat as she backed out of the room. If she got started on everything immediately, she might be able to get it all done and have time to make a dress. But make a dress out of what was her biggest dilemma… but Morticia could worry about that while she was cleaning. 

And worry she did, all the way till nearly midnight when she drug her exhausted body up the many stairs to her attic room. A room which she secretly loved. It was far away from Hester and Ophelia, and it was delightfully gloomy. Not only that, but it was also home to a couple of bats that helped to make Morticia feel less alone. 

“Hello Vlad, hello Dracula,” she said to the bats as she entered the dimly lit, chilly attic.

The two bats squeaked down, swooping around her head in a happy greeting. They both grabbed a hold of one of her braids and started dragging Morticia toward the corner of the attic. She laughed softly, fighting the exhaustion to see what they wanted.

“The two of you are very eager,” she commented over their squeaks. “What is it?” 

Coming to a halt, Morticia reached for a candle and quickly lit it, giving herself a tiny bit of light. Vlad and Dracula swooped down and started chittering around a black lump on the floor. Morticia kneeled beside it, her curiosity getting the better of her. Reaching out, she realized it was a pile of old, black curtains that used to hang in a guest room that had long since been boarded off.

Morticia smiled softly, lifting the curtains to bring them closer to the window. They were a bit shredded at the bottom from the moths, which only made them look better. There was a faint, paisley pattern weaved throughout, giving the curtains a bit of dimension. She looked up at the bats, who were hanging from the window and watching her with big eyes.

“Did you two steal these for me?” she asked.

They chittered happily in response.

“That was unbelievably kind of you,” Morticia sighed, pulling the curtains to her chest. “I cannot thank you enough, you really saved me.” 

Now she could stop worrying about what her dress would be made of and only have to worry about when she would make it. She tiptoed over to the middle of the attic where there was a loose floorboard. She silently lifted it up and hid the curtains beneath it, just to be safe. She could never be too careful. 

“Go out, enjoy the night,” she said to the bats as she rushed back to open the window for them. “For my sake.”

They flew off, leaving Morticia looking wistfully after them. With a sigh, she turned away and walked toward the pathetic mattress she called a bed. Not that she liked anything too soft anyway, but as she curled up under the ripped blanket, she couldn’t help but wish for a mattress that was long enough for her. 

As she shut her eyes, the image of Gomez’s smiling face played before her. Her heart fluttered at the thought as she sunk into a deep sleep.

… 

Gomez couldn’t sleep. Though his room was dark and his mattress was as stiff as a board, he couldn’t shake the jittery feeling pulsing through him. All because of her. He didn’t even know her name, he was too distracted to ask, which he was kicking himself over now. Though he was sure once he learned it, it would become his favorite sound in the entire world. 

Gomez sighed and pushed himself out of bed. He made his way across the black marble floor to the balcony, pushing aside the heavy velvet curtains. He stepped out into the cold night air and took a deep breath. What was he supposed to do? No amount of gazing out over the eerie landscape was going to take her off his mind. Not that he exactly wanted her off his mind anyway.

What if she didn’t come to the ball? What would he do then? His entire future, entire happiness, was banking on the mystery girl showing up. He was determined not to marry Princess Carolina, no matter what the cost. Introducing this girl to his parents would make that infinitely easier and a lot less painful on his part. Or he could kill himself, that was always an option.

Gomez groaned and pulled a cigar from his pocket. Quickly from out of nowhere, Thing skittered across the balcony ledge with a match. Gomez laughed softly. “You’re always there when I need you, Thing. Can I tell you something?”

Thing bounced up and down on his fingers, giving him the affirmative.

“I met someone,” Gomez said with a smile after taking a long drag off his cigar. “And what's more shocking is she isn’t a princess, though she is far more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever met. She is a goddess on earth, and she is only a servant, I assume. Can you believe that?”

Thing shook as if to say no.

“Not that that matters in the slightest. I want to marry her, Thing… I don’t even know her name. If she doesn’t come to the ball I might go insane, I must see her again.” He let out a deep sigh, leaning his elbows against the balcony ledge, looking down at the steep drop below. “I know where her barn is… the house couldn’t be that far away.” He sighed again. “I’m a prince, right? I should be able to just do whatever I want! I should be able to go to her house and demand her hand in marriage… only I don’t know if that's what she would want. The last thing I would want to do is make her uncomfortable.”

Thing gestured vaguely in response.

“I suppose I just have to wait,” Gomez said mirthlessly. “It's going to be torture. I may enjoy it.”

Gomez was never known for being too patient. This was going to be a test of will, but if he was worthy of her, he would go through it. He would drag himself through hot coals for her. At her command he would give up his luxurious life and live as a pauper. Though he certainly hoped she wouldn’t want that, seeing as he wished to treat this woman as the queen he hoped she would become.

“If only she’ll show,” he sighed into the night. “If only.”


	4. A Miraculously Nightmarish Wednesday

Morticia felt like a zombie the next day, which was not as appealing as one may think. She woke up before sunrise to get started on everything, which was something she absolutely despised. It was now midday and she wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep. The problem was she was elbow deep in the wash bin, scrubbing Ophelia’s wine stained blouse. The confusing thing about it was, Ophelia somehow managed to get wine on the part of the blouse hidden behind her corset, but that was beside the point.

She yawned and considered dunking her head in the soapy water to give herself an energy boost. She just had to get through the rest of the day and then the ball was tomorrow, she was determined not to collapse from exhaustion in the meantime. 

As she scrubbed, her mind wandered to the wonderful dream she had the night before. Gomez had shown up out of the blue and whisked her away. He took her to his wonderfully gloomy castle where they danced and fenced and talked for hours and she didn’t have to clean a single thing. She sighed thoughtfully, an absent smile crossing her face.

“Why do you look so happy?” Hester snapped as she walked down into the kitchen. “A smile doesn’t suit your face, Morticia.”

And just like that she was brought crashing back to reality. “I was only smiling because I realized I’m half way through my list,” Morticia quickly said, since there was no way she could ever tell her mother the real reason for her out of place happiness. 

“Is that so?” Hester asked coldly, stopping dead in her tracks. “In that case, you wouldn’t mind weeding the garden.”

Morticia could have cried on the spot, but that was exactly what Hester wanted. So instead, Morticia picked her chin up and nodded graciously. “Of course, Madam.” 

“Good,” Hester said slowly before continuing on her way. “Good.”

As soon as she was gone, Morticia let Ophelia’s shirt drop into the water and hid her head in her hands. Why couldn’t she just have this one thing? Why must her mother make her life so very hard? Though she was determined not to become discouraged, it was becoming increasingly difficult. Her back was aching, her hands were rubbed raw, and she was sure her face was back to being covered in soot. But she was going to the ball even if it meant she was going to drag her own corpse there herself.

By the end of the day, Morticia barely had enough energy to get herself upstairs, let alone make a whole dress from scratch. Though she didn’t see much of an option, so she lit every candle in the attic and pulled the old curtains closer to the window and tucked in to get started on the rather daunting task. 

By the time morning reared its ugly head, and her bats returned to their sleeping perch, Morticia had completed her dress and also had fallen asleep on top of it. She would have kept sleeping too if it wasn’t for the rooster cawing loudly outside. Morticia lifted her head from the floor, one of her braids sticking to her forehead.

She let out a long sigh and lifted the black dress so she could study her handiwork in the daylight. “I did it,” she whispered. “And the ball is tonight. I’m going to see Gomez tonight.” That thought alone was enough to get her aching body off the wood floor. In fact, that though was enough to help her breeze through the day.

“It needs to be tighter!” Ophelia whined like an annoying child. Several hours later, Morticia found herself helping Ophelia get ready for the ball. Morticia sadistically yanked on the stays of her corset, happy to for once be able to inflict a bit of pain on her sister. “Tighter than that!”

Though Morticia wasn’t complaining about her task, she did feel the need to point out, “you’re already thin, Ophelia.”

“I need my waist small and my hips wide!” Ophelia yelled. She stomped over to her bed post, dragging Morticia with her. She grabbed onto the post and planted her feet. “Now yank!”

With a smirk, Morticia pulled as hard as she could, enjoying the breathless wheeze that came from her sister. “Tight enough?”

“No!” 

So Morticia yanked again, even though she was sure the corset couldn’t get any tighter without cracking a few ribs. Though that was a thought… 

“Okay!” Ophelia gasped. “It's tight enough, tie it!” She dashed over to the mirror before Morticia got it tied completely. She rolled her eyes as Ophelia ogled herself with a satisfied smile. “I just have to catch the prince’s attention. I need to dance with him and make him fall in love with me!”

A stab of jealousy rushed through Morticia at the thought. Of course she had no right to claim the prince as her own, she was only a servant, but she felt like there was a connection there. He was all she could think about, he permeated her every thought, even her dreams. She had to speak with him at least once more for her own sanity. 

“Morticia!” Ophelia barked, snapping her from her daydream. “I said, do you think he’ll fall in love with me?”

Morticia knew what she actually thought, but the risk of telling Ophelia that was too high, so she lied. “Of course.” She picked up the horribly gaudy pink dress Ophelia had made and brought it over to her. “Between this eye catching gown and the daisies on your head, how could he not notice you?”

Ophelia smugly fluffed up the daisies that grew out of her head from some unknown reason. “When I’m a princess you’ll only have to clean up after Mother, so that will be nice for you.”

Morticia bit her lip and stayed silent. The thought of Ophelia with Gomez put a sour taste in her mouth. She couldn’t help but make a snarky remark. “You think he’ll propose on the spot? Doesn’t he need to marry royalty?” 

Ophelia whipped around with a sneer. “I come from nobility!”

“As do I,” Morticia pointed out. “So who's to say he won’t ask me instead?” 

Morticia knew that was a mistake. Ophelia’s face screwed up in rage, turning an alarming shade of red that actually looked good on her. “He would never want to marry you, you pathetic little servant. And even if you weren’t a servant you’re too spooky anyway. You look like a corpse.”

“Thank you.”

“That is not a compliment, you freak!” Ophelia shrieked. “Get out!”

“Are you sure you’re capable of dressing yourself?” Morticia asked, crossing her arms. 

“Leave!” 

Morticia turned and stalked out of the frilly, headache inducing room. Though she liked speaking her mind for once, she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to pay for that in the long run. 

… 

“I’ve always loved Wednesdays, haven’t you?” Gomez happily asked Fester, who was sitting in his room while he got prepared for the ball.

“They’re fine,” Fester said with a shrug. “I’ve always found Mondays to be quite fun.”

Gomez shook his head, still grinning ear to ear as he examined himself in the mirror. “Wednesday is the day, Fester.”

Fester frowned as he looked up from the dagger he was toying with. “I don’t like how giddy you are. It's unsettling. Can you frown, maybe?”

“Not today, Fester!” Gomez exclaimed. “And do you know why?”

“Because you are going to see the girl from the barn at the ball,” Fester repeated in a bored tone. “As you’ve said.”

“I’m in love,” Gomez said, running his hands down his velvet, pinstripe vest. “Forget Princess Carolina, this girl will be my wife!”

“And what if she doesn’t come?” Fester asked, flinching in anticipation of Gomez throwing something at him.

“If she doesn’t come I am going to hang myself from the chandelier,” Gomez said simply.

“Oh that's always fun!” Fester said with a smile. “And reasonable.” 

“That's what I thought as well!” Gomez said as he adjusted his short cape around his shoulders. “How do I look, Fester?”

“Do you want the truth?” 

“I realize I don’t have your fashion sense,” Gomez said earnestly, gesturing to Fester’s monk-like attire. “I have to look good enough to at least win her over.”

Fester shrugged. He threw the dagger he was playing with at the armoire and walked over to Gomez. “If it's meant to be, it will be.”

“I will make it be!” He gripped Fester by the shoulders. “By God! It is going to be a miraculously nightmarish Wednesday!”


	5. Scary Godmother

“How do I look?” Morticia asked Vlad and Dracula as she attempted to examine herself in her tiny sliver of mirror. 

She knew her dress was simple, and not at all like what anyone else would be wearing, but she still felt excited to be in it. The skirt was simple, but she used the moth eaten end to add some dimension to the bottom. The sleeves were tight, but fluttered down like spiderwebs at her wrists. She took a chance with the somewhat low cut of the bodice, but she was happy with the end result.

She didn’t think shoes were very important, so she slipped into her everyday flats. She was careful to make sure there was no soot on her face and that her braids were neat before she rushed off down the stairs, not believing she was actually getting to go to the ball. The back breaking amount of work hadn’t stopped her. Morticia was never one for feeling giddy, but she was coming close.

As she rushed down the stairs, she saw her mother and Ophelia nearly out the front door. “Wait!” she called, rushing the rest of the way down. “Wait, please, I’m ready.” 

The two women turned, looking at Morticia with so much scorn she almost flinched from it. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ophelia asked, shaking out her poofy, pink skirt.

“I was able to make a dress,” Morticia said calmly. “And all my chores are done, just as you said.”

Hester and Ophelia shared a look as they approached Morticia. “It's a ball, not a funeral,” Ophelia snapped. 

“Now, now, Ophelia,” Hester said, placing her hand on Morticia’s shoulder. “After all, she must have worked very hard on this. Not everyone can make a dress so quickly that is also durable.” She yanked on her sleeve, causing it to rip at the seams.

Morticia gasped in shock, but apparently that wouldn’t be the end of the onslaught. 

“You see?” Hester said without remorse. “I’m sure the other would just rip straight off, don’t you think, Ophelia?” 

With glee, Ophelia bounded forward and yanked Morticia’s sleeve clean off. She laughed loudly. “You were right, Mother!”

“Why are you doing this?” Morticia asked, yanking her sleeve out of Ophelia’s hand.

“Do calm down, Morticia,” Hester said with a shake of her head. “We’re only helping you. How could you expect to go to the ball looking like this?” Without warning, Hester yanked on the neckline of the dress, the tear of the fabric echoing through the foyer. 

“Stop!” Morticia cried, clutching at her chest to keep her dress from falling.

“And those braids,” Ophelia said with disdain, reaching out to pull the ribbon from the end of one. “You expected to go to the castle looking like a little farm hand?” 

“She would have to be tan to look like a farmhand,” Hester said haughtily. 

Morticia was too in shock to say anything. She stared at her family, tears beginning to cloud her vision. She couldn’t go to the ball with her dress falling off and her hair undone. She couldn’t face Gomez like this.

“And would you look at this sloppy seam?” Ophelia asked, tearing at her skirt until it was barely clinging on.

“Your point was made, Ophelia,” Hester said, pulling her daughter away. “We don’t want to be late for the ball. You have a prince to meet.”

Not wanting them to see her cry, Morticia stiffly turned and slowly stalked away, letting them leave her behind without a fight. As soon as she heard the front door shut, she took off at a run to the back gardens, tears rushing down her cheeks. How could they do this to her? They were her family, and they treated her like garbage and she could never understand why.

Morticia came to a halt in the small pumpkin patch behind the house, crashing to her knees. She flung her arms over a pumpkin and started sobbing into them, unable to control it any longer. All the years of abuse finally came pouring out, all the heartache, all the loneliness. How could they do this to her? Her one chance at happiness, her one chance to see Gomez again, all ruined. He could have been the love of her life, but now she would never know. There would never be another chance like this to speak to a prince. How many times could he show up in her barn?

“It can’t be that bad,” said a voice that Morticia didn’t recognize. “Did you chip a nail? I know that always gets my panties in a twist. Well, it would if I wore any.” There was a laugh as Morticia felt a hand nudge her shoulder. 

Cautiously, Morticia lifted her head to see a rather busty woman sitting on a large pumpkin beside her. Morticia shook her head, sure that she had finally cracked and was hallucinating. 

“Oh, yeah, um, ta da!” The woman said, holding out her hands and wiggling her fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” Morticia gasped, wiping at her eyes. “I didn’t see you when I ran out here.” 

“That's because I wasn’t out here. Trust me, people notice me. Most times more than once on a good day.” She laughed and crossed her legs, which were brazenly showing through the very high slit of her dress. Not to mention the way her chest was nearly on total display. Morticia was torn between noticing those things and going back to the way her black hair was resembling a large bee hive. Though she looked scandalous, Morticia was in awe of this strange woman that appeared from out of nowhere.

“Who are you… if you don’t mind my asking?” Morticia said cautiously, looking up at her. 

“I’m your…” she paused for dramatic effect, standing and doing a twirl. “Scary godmother! But you can just call me Elvira.”

Morticia laughed softly. “Scary godmother?”

Elvira grinned. “Yes. Are these things on?” she asked, gently tugging Morticia’s ear. “But like I said, I prefer Elvira. It makes me sound less old, plus it's my name.” 

Morticia was still a bit in shock. She was having trouble wrapping her head around what was happening. “I’m sorry, it's just kind of hard to process you showing up in my garden out of nowhere.”

“Well, you need me, don’t you, babe?” Elvira asked, pulling Morticia to her feet. “So here I am! Ready to help!”

“Help me how?” Morticia asked, gripping at the tatters of her dress to keep it from falling. “I’m a hopeless case, if you haven’t noticed.”

Elvira did a once over of Morticia and shrugged. “I’m not against the rips, it's kinda hot. You people don’t show enough skin, if you ask me. And by you people I mean olden days people.”

“Olden days?”

Elvira waved her hand dismissively. “Forget I said it, we’re getting too meta here. Point is, honey, I’m here to make sure you’re ready to go to that ball and get your man.”

“How?” Morticia asked, looking at Elvira with caution. “I have no dress, no carriage, I’m just a pathetic servant like they said.” 

“Hey, I am not here for you trash talking yourself!” Elvira said, taking Morticia’s hand and pulling her out of the pumpkin patch. “You’ve got five times more heart than those overheated meatheads. Five times the looks too, if we want to get nasty. I for one am always down to get nasty.”

Morticia smiled softly. “That doesn’t do me much good in this situation, however.”

“Well that's what I’m here for! Pay attention. Now let's see, we need a way to get you to the ball in the first place.” Elvira put her hands on her hips, looking around the dark garden with a frown. “You showing up in a sick convertible would probably be too much, and I don’t have time to teach you to drive a stick shift, so we’re going to have to go old school. Hand me one of those pumpkins, will ya?”

Morticia nodded through her confusion. She lifted one of the giant, orange pumpkins and staggered back over to where Elvira was muttering to herself. “Is this one good?”

“Perfect! Set it down, we don’t need you throwing your back out this early in the night,” she said with a laugh. “That comes later.”

Not that she would admit it, but Morticia quite liked the sound of that. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Watch this,” Elvira said eagerly. “Unless it turns into a disaster. In that case I want you to look away and never mention this to anybody.”

Morticia nodded cautiously, crossing her arms. “Alright.” 

“Bibbity, boppity…. Oh, what was that next part?” Elvira tapped her chin as she tried to think of the right end to the spell. “Boo? No, not boo, that's too simple. Oh, I’ve got it, boobs!”

“Boobs?” Morticia gasped.

“Oh, no, it was boo,” Elvira said with a shrug. “My bad. Bibbity, boppity, boo!”

Right as Morticia was starting to think the village crazy lady had showed up in her yard, the pumpkin on the ground started to shake. Then, in a flash of red light, it grew before her eyes into a round black carriage, complete with a red velvet interior and stained glass windows. Morticia’s mouth fell open in shock.

“I know, I know, I get a jaw drop reaction from most people,” Elvira said with a shrug. “Now, we need something to pull it, don’t we? That's what she said! Ha! Oh, those will do!”

Vlad and Dracula had fluttered down to watch the strange scene unfold. “They’re a little small,” Morticia gently pointed out.

“I’ve never been told that before. Oh, you mean the bats! I’m going to change that. Bibbity, boppity, boo!” 

Vlad and Dracula let out a screech as they were pulled into a swirl of black mist. It continued to swirl around for a moment until it deposited two enormous, leathery gargoyles in front of the carriage. Morticia rushed forward, reaching out to pat the closest one on the head. 

“These are my bats?” she asked as the one began licking her hand.

“Sure thing! Don’t worry, they’ll go back to normal later.”

“This is all so amazing, Elvira,” Morticia said, walking back over to her. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t even gotten to the best part!”

“Which is?”

“Duh, your dress! I’m thinking we go skin tight, add a plunging neckline, what do you think?”

“Can it be black?”

“As if there's any other color.” Elvira backed up, clearly deep in thought as she looked at Morticia. “You’re going to look so hot by the time I’m through with you. That prince will be your slave by the time the night is through. Bibbity, boppity, boo!”

A hazy ray of red light surrounded Morticia, seeping into the tattered ruins of her dress. She looked down in awe as the dress transformed into something completely different and completely magical. She was now wearing a dress as tight as Elvira promised, with a deep neckline accentuated by swirling silver thread. The bottom of the dress was tight until it flared out around her ankles. She looked behind her to see a long train with that same silver thread lining the edges that stretched far behind her.

She reached her hands up, finding that her hair was now hanging loose, curling slightly at the ends. A heavy black crown was resting on her head and felt like it was made of smooth glass. “I don’t believe this,” she whispered as she tried to soak in as much detail as possible.

“Believe it, babe,” Elvira said happily. “Oh, and check out the shoes!” 

Morticia lifted the hem of her dress, looking down to find that she was wearing shoes made entirely from black glass, just like her crown. There were small rubies on the tips, resembling drops of blood pooling at her toes. Morticia’s now ruby red lips parted in awe.

“How can I ever thank you for all this?” she asked, walking over to take Elvira’s hands.

“By going to the ball and getting your man! Now come on, into the carriage with you! And if it's a rocking, I will not come knocking!” she laughed at her own joke as she helped Morticia inside. “Oh, one tiny, fine print detail. At the last stroke of midnight, all of this goes away. I know, I know, the rules of magic suck and midnight is far too early, but it is what it is. I get in trouble for bending the rules, and not the fun kind of trouble. The bad kind where they suspend my credit card.”

“Midnight is more than I could have hoped for, Elvira.”

“Get out of here before you make me cry. This eye makeup takes a long time and I don’t want it ruined!”

With one last thank you, Morticia was off toward the ball without a single regret.


	6. They're all looking at You

There was no sign of her and Gomez was going mad. At this point it seemed as though everyone had already arrived, so where could she be? He greeted everyone himself, half because he had to and half because he couldn’t wait to see her again. The dancing was going to start any moment and he had to pick a partner, but no man or woman in the room even remotely compared to her. 

“I see all your pep about it being a nightmarish Wednesday is gone,” Fester commented through a mouth full of zebra leg.

Gomez sighed as he looked forlornly at the gaggle of people around him. “Ready the noose and the chandelier, Fester, I am not long for this world.”

“Oh, goody!” 

Just as Fester was about to dash away, the dark wood doors at the top of the balcony creaked open, alerting everyone in the room. All eyes darted upward as she walked in, and the room seemed to come to a standstill. Gomez felt his heart hammer in his chest, his stomach doing flips, he almost vomited on the spot. She actually came.

“Oh, that's got to be her,” Fester said, but Gomez barely heard him. 

He was across the floor in an instant, the crowd parting for him as he walked in a daze. She made her way down the twisting staircase, seemingly uncomfortable that every eye was on her. But why would a beauty such as her be uncomfortable with attention? She must get it everywhere she goes. And in that dress… Gomez almost dropped to his knees.

“You came,” he said once she was a mere few feet away. 

“I… it wasn’t easy,” she said softly, still cautiously looking at the crowd glaring enviously at them. 

Out of nowhere, the band struck a single chord. With a flourish, Gomez extended his hand. “Dance with me, cara mia.”

She nodded wordlessly, slipping her dainty and rather cold hand into his. He spun her under his arm before pulling her tightly to his chest. The crowd around them gasped and started murmuring over the music. She glanced to the side, but Gomez caught her chin, tilting her face back toward him.

“They’re all staring at you,” she whispered.

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “No, they’re all looking at you.”

The band started full force. Gomez led her around the floor with expert movements, which she matched perfectly, in spite of her tight dress and long train. As if Gomez didn’t think the world of this woman before, she was continuously impressing him. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, finding that he couldn’t take his eyes off her for a second.

She smiled, and it was the most wondrous sight he could have imagined. “Thank you. You’re very handsome yourself, if I may say so.”

He laughed, lifting her hand to his mouth to kiss. “You may say whatever you wish, whenever you wish.” He drank in her appearance once again, noticing the ebony crown on her head that seemed to meld into her silky hair. “Did you lie to me in that barn? You must be a princess.”

She shook her head. “I simply had a stroke of good luck tonight. I almost wasn’t able to come… but a certain scary godmother was looking out for me.”

“Scary godmother? I must hear more about this,” he said with a grin.

She shook her head. “I don’t know that you would believe me if I told you.”

“I’d believe you if you told me the sky was made of fire.”

Her eyes widened in intrigue. “Isn’t that a thought. And on that note, I must say I adore your castle. It's so nice and gloomy.”

“I’ve always thought so.” He looked around the mostly black ballroom with pride. “Would you like to see it from the outside? We have a garden made mostly of poisonous plants.”

“I love dangerous plants,” she said eagerly. “I’d love to see it.”

Gomez glanced around to see if his parents were anywhere in sight. They weren’t, which provided the perfect opportunity for them to slip away. While he fully intended to introduce this woman to them tonight, he was going to wait it out a bit. He spun them around, angling them toward the doors. They were able to slip through the crowd and out into the cool night air without anyone stopping them.

“This is all so amazing,” she remarked, awe filling her voice.

He watched her face as she absorbed everything from the various plants, to the dark facade of the castle with it's stained glass windows. While her face tended to remain still, her eyebrows were very telling, which was something he noticed upon their first meeting. But when she smiled it was as if she had the ability to stop his heart.

“We have a pretty extensive cemetery as well, '' Gomez said as he led her by the hand through all the poison ivy and oak. “But perhaps I should save that for another time. I have to keep you interested.”

She turned to face him, a look of shock in her eyes. “You would have me back?”

“I would have you forever,” Gomez said sincerely, taking her hands in his. “You must tell me your name, because I realize I have been a horrible cad and never asked.”

She shook her head, shyly looking away. “You don’t need to know my name.”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m not a princess.”

“I couldn’t care less.”

She huffed. “You’re relentless.”

“All I know is that those moments in your barn, even when you were threatening my life, were the best moments of my life. You’ve made me feel like a whole person for the first time in a very long time. I threw this entire ball, solely based on the hope that you would come. Won’t you at least tell me your name?” 

She looked at him in shock, moonlight reflecting off her wide eyes. “Well, that is certainly a good reason to tell you my name.”

“I was hoping an entire ball would be enough.”

After a long, contemplative silence, she finally spoke. “It's Morticia.” 

“Morticia,” he repeated softly. “A symphony to my ears. Thank you.”

“I don’t want to lie to you,” she said somewhat ruefully, pulling her hands from his. She slowly began down the path and Gomez followed. He would follow her to the ends of the earth. “I’m only a servant, Gomez. My family was noble, at one point, but that is nothing more than a shell of a title anymore. We have no money and that is why I do every job in the house.” She took in a shuddering breath, coming to a halt in front of a rather large venus fly trap.

“It's okay, Morticia,” he said softly, gently touching the small of her back.

“None of this is real, Gomez,” she said, turning to face him with her shoulders squared. “At the stroke of midnight, all of this goes away and I’m back to being Cinderticia.”

“Cinderticia,” he scoffed. 

“It's true. I just… I wanted to tell you because I truly care about you, even though I have no right to. You’re all I’ve thought about since we met.”

“Well, that's a relief since you’re all I’ve thought about as well,” he said. “Since you’ve been honest with me, I’m going to be honest with you.” He took a deep breath, reaching out to stroke her hair. “I’m betrothed to someone. My plan tonight, however, was to introduce you to my parents with the hope that they would fall for you the way I have, because how could they not?”

Morticia’s jaw fell in shock. She took a step back, nearly stepping into a tangle of poison ivy. Gomez caught her hand and pulled her forward, saving her from getting a rash. It didn’t occur to him at first that perhaps she would have liked the rash. 

“Marrying you would be a perfect nightmare,” Morticia said. “But you cannot introduce me to the king and queen. How would you even explain me?”

Gomez shrugged. “I would simply say, this is Morticia and I am in love with her and I am going to marry her and not Princess Carolina.”

“I love your conviction, but I cannot see them going for that,” Morticia said with a mirthless laugh. 

“Let me try,” he pleaded, getting down on his knees. “Now that we’ve had more time together I am even more convinced that you are the only woman for me. I will not be able to exist without you in my life. Let me introduce you to my parents.”

“Gomez,” she said, her voice breaking. She cupped his face in her hands, urging him back to his feet. “Could we just enjoy a bit of the night together first? Dancing with you was so lovely, and so was speaking with you. Never once have I had a conversation with someone who understands me the way you do.”

He nodded, turning his head to place a kiss to the palm of her hand. “Whatever you wish, my darling, Tish.”

She grinned. “Normally I despise rhyming.”

“Normally I do as well.” A thought struck him as the wind picked up. “Would you like to see the swamp?”

Morticia’s eyes lit up. “I would love to see the swamp.”


	7. Shoot Her in the Back

Morticia’s heart had not stopped racing the entire night. Gomez wanted to marry her, she couldn’t believe it, and it broke her heart that she couldn’t let that happen. How could she let him throw away his life for her? How could she let him jeopardize his relationship with his parents? He may be too blissfully blind to see it, but she was not worth the controversy she would cause. However, she would enjoy the night while she could.

They were standing arm in arm, looking out over the vast, bubbly, goopy swamp. There was a slight breeze rolling around them, rustling the leaves of the trees above their heads. It was such a lovely sight, Morticia almost couldn’t stand it. 

“Your life sounds so fascinating,” Morticia said after he finished a story about how he was once thrown overboard on a boat and only lived because he was caught by a tuna net. 

“It's been empty up until now,” he said, and what shocked Morticia was that he was being completely honest.

She didn’t understand how they could have fallen in love with each other so quickly and so completely at the same exact time. There was no doubt that fate was bringing them together. It was just too bad fate couldn’t have made her deserving of a man like Gomez.

“You flatter me,” she said, tilting her head up to look at him. 

“You deserve nothing but flattery.”

She shook her head. “You see me in a way no one ever has. Why?” 

“Why?” he laughed. “You’re miraculous. Your incomparable beauty aside, you are headstrong and independent. However, you’re very kind and gentle.” He cupped her face, his intense eyes searching hers for something she was unsure of. “I can see a sadness in you, yet you smile at my corny jokes.”

“Because you genuinely make me laugh, Gomez,” she said. “But my sadness is not your concern.”

“I would like it to be.”

“I would prefer it if you kept making me laugh instead,” she replied. “It's not something I do very often.”

“Very well, what do you call a bird underwater?” he asked, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“I don’t know. What do you call a bird underwater?”

“Drowned!” he cried with a loud laugh.

Morticia grinned as she laughed along with him. “See, that was genuinely funny. And your laugh is infectious.”

“Oh, like a disease?” he asked.

“Yes, like a disease.”

“You’re a breath of boggy air, Morticia,” Gomez sighed, winding his arm around her shoulders. “Most people I’m forced to talk to outside of my family don’t quite get me the way you do.”

“Does Princess Carolina?” she dared to ask.

Gomez laughed. “Not at all. The one and only time she’s been to our castle she told us how spooky it was and then went about opening all the curtains to let daylight in.”

Morticia shuddered. “How horrible. My mother and sister are the same way. They want everything light and airy and want every surface spotless.”

“Dreadful. You see why we must be together. We must save each other,” Gomez said with so much conviction, Morticia nearly threw away any doubts she had.

But she loved him far too much to subject him to the trials that would come with marrying her. “Gomez…”

“Morticia, please let me introduce you to my parents. They will love you, I swear it.”

Suddenly the bells from the clocktower started chiming, signaling midnight’s approach. Morticia’s heart sunk as fear spiked at her heart. She had to go, she couldn’t let him see her in rags after seeing her like this. It might ruin his high opinion of her, and as selfish as it may have been, she wanted him to remember her this way.

“I have to go,” she gasped, pulling away from him.

“What? No, Morticia, please!” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her heart cracking in half. The look on his face was so devastating, she felt like a monster. “Tonight was the best night of my life. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Another chime, and Morticia took off down the grassy path. She was cursing how tight her dress was, it was making it difficult to make a swift getaway. She could hear Gomez shouting her name behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back. If she looked back, she might not leave. 

“Morticia, please!” Gomez cried, and she could hear him chasing after her. “Morticia, I love you!” 

He was not making this easy, that was for sure. She reached the ballroom by the fourth toll of the bells. The party was still raging inside, making it even harder for her to rush away. To make matters worse, halfway through the dance floor her eyes locked with her mother’s, just as Gomez burst in, still shouting her name.

“Morticia!” he yelled over the sound of the music, making everyone come to a halt.

Hester’s eyes blazed with anger as she made a beeline toward Morticia. No longer trying to be polite, Morticia barreled toward the stairs, which she was not looking forward to running up. She lifted the hem of her dress as much as she could, hating that she once again had all eyes on her as she once again began to run.

“Someone stop her!” Gomez yelled. 

The bells chimed once more as Morticia reached the landing, where the king and queen were standing watching the party unfold. However, now their attention was on her. She dipped into a half curtsey half bow before continuing on her way.

“Mama, stop her!” Gomez yelled from halfway up the stairs.

“Why?” the queen yelled back.

“Because I’m in love with her!” 

“Oh, very well then.” She turned and gestured to the guards. “Stop that girl!” 

“No,” Morticia gasped. 

Her lungs felt like they were going to explode and her heart felt like it was going to jump out of her chest. She made it outside by some miracle, though now half the guards were on her tail as well as Gomez. Not only that, but some of the party guests had gathered at the top of the stairs to watch, including Hester and Ophelia. She was dead, there was no way around it.

“Morticia, please!” Gomez pleaded as he started jumping down the stairs after her.

Morticia pitched forward slightly, which caused her right shoe to come off. She paused for a second, considering going back for it, but realizing there was no time. Her carriage was in sight and still intact, though now the bell was on it's eighth toll.

“I’ll shoot her in the back!” she heard a man exclaim.

“No!” was thankfully Gomez’s reply.

Morticia was only a few feet from the carriage. The two gargoyles were snoozing away, completely unaware of the fact that she needed to make a quick escape. “Vlad, Dracula, wake up!” she hissed, yanking open the black door and jumping inside. “Hurry!”

Thankfully, the carriage gave a jolt and she was on her way. She dared to look out the window, unfortunately locking eyes with Gomez, who looked completely heartbroken as he clutched her lost shoe to his chest. “I’m sorry,” she said, placing her hand against the window as the carriage raced away and out of sight.


	8. Locked Away

Gomez watched the impressively macabre carriage disappear from sight, feeling like his heart was being yanked behind it over the rocky ground, tearing it to shreds. How could she just leave? He thought everything was going so well, despite her reservations. Hadn’t he shown her how serious he was about her? Couldn’t she see that she was his entire world? 

He lifted her shoe, looking at it in awe. It was glass. Black glass, with rubies adorning the tip, looking like blood. Gomez held it to his chest, wishing it was Morticia instead. He at least had an excuse to find her now. After all, she would be desperately missing her shoe. 

“You should have let me shoot her!” Fester said, angrily tossing his rifle to the side. “It would have stopped her!”

“It would have hurt her,” Gomez retorted.

“Why did she run?” Fester asked. “Are you that bad of a kisser?”

Gomez rolled his eyes. “I didn’t even get to kiss her, Fester. It's… it's complicated.”

“I would like to know, my dear son, why you say you are in love with that girl that just ran from here like a bat out of hell?” Mama asked, whacking Gomez on the back of the head.

“Ow! Mama, it's because I am in love with her,” he argued back. “I want to marry her! Not Princess Carolina. I was going to introduce you tonight. You know, before she ran away.”

“Well… I appreciate that she ran away from you,” she considered. “If you can find her, you have my blessing. If I’m being honest, Carolina was too high maintenance. I just want you to get married so you can be someone else’s problem.”

That normally would have had Gomez elated, but now he was only concerned with finding Morticia and proving that he loved her no matter what. He didn’t care that she was a servant and that all of her finery tonight was borrowed. He loved her for her, as simple as that. And he would prove it to her as soon as he found her again.

“If I may, your highness,” said a voice Gomez didn’t recognize. He turned to find an older, dark haired woman in a deep curtsy behind him. She was accompanied by a younger blonde woman who had a mass of daisies on her head. “I must beg your deepest forgiveness.”

“For what?” he asked, in no mood for normal pleasantries. 

“Well, you see, that terribly ungrateful girl that just sped out of here is my daughter,” the woman explained in a somewhat embarrassed tone. “She doesn’t get out of the house much, I’m afraid she has no idea how to behave in a public setting. I will be reprimanding her severely at home.”

“You’re Morticia’s mother?” he asked, clutching the glass shoe tightly in his hands.

“Yes, and I hope you don’t see that as a stain on mine and Ophelia’s reputation.”

Gomez frowned, the feeling of disdain spreading through him at a rapid rate. “Morticia has told me how she works as a servant in your household. Why is that?”

“Who else is going to clean the place?” Ophelia asked.

“Ophelia, do shut up,” the woman hissed. “Your Highness, Morticia needs the work to keep her mind focused. She is just so very… odd. She needs the menial tasks.”

“Why is it she told me she was almost unable to attend tonight?” he pressed, not buying a word of what she was saying. This woman had liar written all over her face.

The woman faltered for a moment as she searched for whatever lie she was going to tell him next. “We were simply trying to save her the embarrassment.”

“She looked atrocious,” Ophelia said.

Gomez winced, but held his tongue.

“We’re very sorry that she wasted your time.”

“She didn’t waste my time,” he snapped. He wanted to go off on a tangent about how Morticia was the most wonderful person he had ever met, however, he thought that might be the wrong move to make. “May I please come over for tea tomorrow? I would very much like to return Morticia’s shoe.”

“Oh, we would be honored to have you in our home, Your Highness,” she began. “However, I could just take the shoe to her and you wouldn’t have to concern yourself.”

She reached for it and Gomez took a step back, holding it protectively, like it was the most important thing in the world. “I would prefer to return it myself.”

“Of course. We shall see you for tea, then. Come along, Ophelia.”

“I’m single,” Ophelia hissed as her mother pulled her past. 

“Yeash,” Fester exclaimed once they were gone. “What loads of work. Is Morticia like them?”

“Not at all. Something doesn’t seem right about the two of them… and not in the normal, pleasant way either.” He shook his head as he watched them leave. “Come along, Fester, we must devise a plan for tomorrow.”

“We’re going to bomb them, aren’t we?”

“No, Fester, no we are not.”

“Oh, boo.” 

… 

Back to tattered rags and bats, Morticia managed to slip into her attic bedroom only moments before her mother and Ophelia walked in the front door. Her only memento from the night was the glass slipper she managed to hold on to. For some reason it was the only thing that didn’t change back, and she was completely grateful for that.

She pulled up the loose floorboard and gently hid the shoe beneath it. She was sure her mother locked eyes on her through the crowd, and more likely than not she heard Gomez yelling her name, but she was sure if she got into bed immediately and didn’t make a sound she might not think anything of it. He could alway have been yelling for a different Morticia, right? 

The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs made Morticia rush to her pitiful mattress. She laid down and yanked her blanket over her right as the door crashed open. “Don’t pretend,” came her mother’s irritated voice. “I know you aren’t asleep.”

Slowly, Morticia lifted her head, trying to look as dazed and sleepy as possible. She even yawned for good measure. “What do you mean?”

“Just how dumb do you think I am, Morticia?” Hester yelled, stalking toward her through the darkness. “I know you were at the ball!”

Morticia sat all the way up, pulling her blanket around her shoulders. “You and Ophelia made it very certain that I did not go to the ball.”

The stinging smack of Hester’s hand across her face made Morticia let out a startled cry. She lifted a hand to her cheek, her fingers coming away wet with blood. Hester’s ring left a nice gash across her normally perfect cheek. “I saw you,” Hester hissed. “I spoke to the prince about you.”

Fear gripped at Morticia’s insides like a cold hand. The jig was clearly up. “I couldn’t just have one night?” she asked.

“You had no right to monopolize the prince’s time the way you did,” Hester said with a sneer. “You are nothing, and you will always be nothing, Morticia.”

“Gomez doesn’t think I’m nothing,” she said, getting to her feet.”

“You dare to refer to the prince so casually?” Hester scoffed. “And do you honestly think he would still think so highly of you after that stunt you pulled? Causing a scene of such caliber?”

“I did it for him,” Morticia said. 

“You did it for yourself!” Hester yelled. “You wanted to cause a scene. You liked that attention. All those people whispering about who the secret princess could possibly be. You just loved that, didn’t you?”

Morticia squared her shoulders, keeping her face neutral. “I was unaware that's what people were saying. I only wanted to spend time with Gomez, even if it was just for a few hours. Don’t I deserve a few hours of happiness?”

“No,” Hester spat from between her teeth. “You do not.” 

She turned to leave and Morticia couldn’t help herself. “You are my mother! Why do you hate me?” 

Hester stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turning to glare at Morticia. “Why do I hate you? Have you ever looked in a mirror, Morticia?”

“What could that possibly mean?” 

“You are gorgeous and smart. Just like your father. You are all but his clone, how do you think that makes me feel?” Hester asked, once again advancing on her. “He left us high and dry, all except for you!”

“High and dry?” Morticia spat. “He died!”

“And left us completely penniless! And you are that reminder, every single day of my cursed life.”

“I’m your daughter,” Morticia repeated, fighting to keep her voice from wavering. 

“In name alone,” Hester said before walking away, slamming the door behind her. 

Seconds later, Morticia heard the click of the lock. “No,” she gasped, rushing forward. She twisted the knob, finding it stuck fast. “No, you can’t do this! You can’t lock me away!” Morticia sunk down, her forehead thumping against the door. “Why can’t you love me?”

Morticia was completely dazed by the time she woke up. The sky was gray and hazy outside with thunder rumbling in the distance. It had all the makings of a wonderful day, but she was locked like a prisoner in her room with no escape. Going out the window would mean certain death, and she was feeling far too vindictive to die today. She forced herself to stand from the hard floor, her ripped gown still hanging loosely from her body. Her face stung from Hester’s ring, but that didn’t compare to the stabbing feeling of hopelessness tormenting her heart. 

She changed into her normal dress, secretly longing for the wondrous gown from the night before. Where was Elvira now? Was she just a one trick pony? Morticia sighed and shook her head, hating that she was thinking that way. This was her reality and she was resigned to that. Last night was nothing more than a dream that she would cherish forever. Those few hours with Gomez she would remember until the day she died. 

The loud whinny of a horse drew her attention from her self pity and over to the window. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the sight of Gomez, along with a bald man on horseback, outside of their house. She shook her head, positive she was hallucinating, but there he was and he was walking toward the door.

Morticia dashed away from the window and back to the door, shaking it again, trying to get it to budge. She knew calling for him would do no good, she was too far removed from the rest of the house. Frantically she searched the sparse attic for anything she could break the door down with, coming up empty handed.

Regret hit her full force. She should have accepted his offer last night, damn the consequences. Clearly he didn’t care since here he was, at her house. Her mother had to let him up to see her, why else would he be here? He wouldn’t leave without speaking with her, he couldn’t. But Hester was manipulative and mean, she would make up some excuse. She would tell him Morticia was dead, or had ran away, or simply didn’t want to see him. She didn’t know which option was the worst.

All the rattling she was doing woke up Vlad and Dracula, who took notice of their friend’s desperate situation. Silently, the two bats took off out the window while Morticia pounded her knuckles bloody on the door.   
“Please, Gomez,” she pleaded. “I’m here!”


	9. How to make Fester Cry

“I just feel awful Morticia is gone and can’t greet you,” Hester was saying as she led Gomez and Fester into their simple sitting room. “She never came home last night.”

Gomez and Fester shared a look, neither quite believing what was being said to them. “That is a shame,” Gomez remarked, deciding to play along for the time being. He pulled the glass slipper out of Fester’s satchel, looking down at it with adoration. “I so desperately wanted to give this back. Are you certain you just didn’t hear Morticia come in?” 

“Positive,” Hester quickly responded. “Why, that shoe isn’t even Morticia’s to begin with. It's my other daughter, Ophelia’s.” She gestured over to where Ophelia was sitting, catching her off guard.

“It is?” Ophelia asked as she toyed with one of the daisies on her head.

“It doesn’t seem like Ophelia’s style,” Gomez said, waving his hand at her yellow dress. 

“Put the shoe on, Ophelia,” Hester said through gritted teeth. “Show His Highness that it is yours.” 

Ophelia’s lip curled in revulsion. “It's so black.”

“Ophelia!”

“Look, lady,” Fester cut in. “If you have a foot thing, that's on you. We’re here to see Morticia.”

Gomez smirked, patting Fester on the shoulder. “Now, now, if the lady insists then by all means we shall have Ophelia try it on.”

Ophelia let out a long sigh. “Fine, fine.” she kicked off her shoe and stuck her foot out from beneath the layers of yellow fabric. “Put it on.”

Gomez obliged, sliding the glass slipper over half of Ophelia’s foot. She whined and pouted, crossing her arms. Gomez suppressed a laugh while Fester was not so subtle about his amusement. Hester scoffed loudly and walked over, roughly grabbing Ophelia’s foot to try to make the shoe fit.

“Ow, you’re hurting me!” she cried, trying to kick her mother away. “I don’t even like the shoe!” 

Gomez was momentarily distracted by what sounded like flapping wings somewhere in the room, but was quickly brought back to reality by Hester’s angry voice. “Your feet are swollen from all the dancing you did last night, that's all!”

“Or the shoe belongs to Morticia and you’re lying for some reason,” Gomez said, pulling the shoe off Ophelia’s foot.

“You aren’t lying to the prince, are you?” Fester added in an accusatory tone.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Hester said in a sickly fake tone. “I just don’t want that harlot to have you so fooled.”

“I’ll ask you to watch your mouth,” Gomez spat. “Now tell me the truth, where is Morticia?”

“Gone, honestly. Tell him, Ophelia.”

“What do I care anymore?” she sighed. “Now that I’ve seen him up close he’s not my type. I don’t like that mustache.” 

In a rage, Hester reached out and snatched the shoe from Gomez. “Morticia is gone, this shoe is meaningless!” she threw it against the floor, where it shattered into a million little shards of glass.

“Huh, the floor actually looks better that way,” Fester observed. 

“You, madam, are on very thin ice,” Gomez spat. “If you know what's good for you, you’ll tell me where she is.” 

“Right here,” came Morticia’s melodious voice from the doorway. 

Gomez spun, his heart nearly leaping from his chest at the sight of her. Even in her plain clothes she was still the most wondrous creature to ever walk the planet. His anger at Hester was the only thing stopping him from sprinting over and taking her in his arms.

“Oh, Morticia,” Hester said in the most fake voice imaginable. “You came back!”

Morticia’s dark eyes hardened. “I was never gone. I was simply locked in my room. However, I have a few friends who are rather good at stealing keys.”

Hester slapped her hand against her pocket, her face going pale at the realization. Ophelia let out an obnoxious laugh as she stood. “What friends?” she asked. “You don’t have any friends.” 

Gomez waved his hand to silence everyone. “Morticia, I came here to beg you to reconsider. Also to return your shoe, which your mother smashed against the ground, as you can see.”

Morticia frowned as she looked at the shattered glass in front of her feet. “I’m sorry I ran,” she said quietly, folding her hands together. “I wanted to save you the embarrassment of introducing a servant to your parents, and to the kingdom. I’m not worthy of you.”

“That's where you’re wrong,” he said, reaching out to take her hands. “It is I who is not worthy of you. Morticia, I want to marry you.”

Ophelia let out an indignant gasp. 

Morticia looked at him in stunned silence. Gomez reached out and ran his hand along her cheek, noticing the bright red gash in her alabaster skin. He shook his head, his brows furrowing. “What's this?” 

She looked down, lifting her hand to cover it. “Nothing.” 

“Stop protecting them,” he whispered. “They don’t deserve it.”

“Do I need to shoot someone?” Fester loudly asked.

“Perhaps,” Gomez said.

“Gomez,” Morticia said gently, pulling his attention back to her. “I love you.”

“So marry me,” he said, dropping to one knee. “Let me take you from all this. To a place where you’ll be loved and adored the way you should be. Where we can dance, and duel, and get a pet lion if that's what you wish… Tish.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “No one has ever seen me as you do, and I would be a fool to pass up true love for a second time. My answer is yes, Gomez.”

“Oh, I’m gonna cry,” Fester muttered. 

Unable to resist any longer, Gomez stood and pulled Morticia into a deep, passionate kiss, which sent Hester and Ophelia into a spiral. “Why her?” Ophelia screeched. “Why, why, why?”

“I don’t know how she’s tricked you,” Hester said, “but you can’t fall for this, Your Highness.” 

Gomez ignored her and instead scooped Morticia into his arms. “Fester, gather Morticia’s belongings.”

“I have all I need right here,” Morticia said. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the other glass slipper. “You, and a memento from the best night of my life. So far, that is.” 

“So far indeed,” Gomez said with a grin as he started walking toward the door. 

“Morticia, you can’t leave us,” Hester called in desperation. “We’re your family.”

Gomez turned so Morticia could face down her mother from the safety of his arms. “In name alone, isn’t that what you said last night?”

Hester’s jaw dropped in shock. Ophelia continued to pout. 

“You’ll be an Addams soon enough,” Gomez said. “Then even your name won’t tie you to these people. Good day.” 

“Good day!” Fester added in a much more boisterous nature, stomping his foot for good measure. 

While Gomez was feeling pretty good about everything, the somewhat perplexed expression on Morticia’s face was hard to miss as they stepped out into the rainy afternoon. “My darling, what is it?”

She shook her head as he set her back on her feet. “It's silly, really. They’ve treated me like dirt since the day my father died but… I pity them. Their lives are just so empty.”

Gomez nodded in understanding. He softly kissed her forehead and pulled her into an embrace. “Tell me what you want me to do, cara mia, and I will do it.”

“They should get to keep the house, even though they have no money,” Morticia said, casting one last glance at her childhood home. “But they are not invited to our wedding.”

Gomez grinned. “They will not get within a ten mile radius of you without your permission.” 

Morticia let out a happy sigh. “Thank you, Gomez. Now, whisk me away, Prince Charming.”


	10. Unhappily Ever After

Morticia was beyond nervous as she watched the sun set from one of the many balconies of the palace. The past few days had been a whirlwind as she was thrust into her new life as royalty. She had learned so much it felt like her head would burst, and what a wonderful feeling that was. 

Her heart hammered as she watched everyone take their seats in the back garden. There were a lot of people here, and why wouldn’t there be? A royal wedding was a big deal, and it was an even bigger deal when the prince was marrying a commoner, breaking with tradition as the Addams were so apt to do. 

“My, don’t you look like an angel of death,” the queen gasped, startling Morticia slightly.

She turned, smiling at her soon to be mother in law. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “We’re going to be family. Call me Mama, I insist.” 

Morticia couldn’t describe the happy feeling that brought her, since it was so foreign a feeling to begin with. She did know that she couldn’t recall smiling so much in her entire life, another entirely strange yet oddly welcome feeling. “I would like that very much, Mama. Do I really look alright?”

Morticia fussed with the full skirt of her black ball gown. The bodice was tight and once again deep cut, complete with off the shoulder sleeves that ended in a flare that reached nearly to the floor. While she loved the gown, Morticia couldn’t help but still feel like she didn’t deserve to be in it. Same with the heavy ruby tiara resting atop her ebony hair. It was all such an adjustment.

“Oh, Morticia, I could tell you how beautiful you look until I’m blue in the face,” Mama said with a laugh. “But I think it's time to let the look on Gomez’s face speak for itself. That is, if you’re ready, my dear.”

Morticia looked back out at the gathered crowd, right as Vlad and Dracula swooped down through the sky. She smiled, absentmindedly stroking the large black diamond on her left hand. “I’m ready, Mama.”

Morticia was beginning to realize that her earlier nerves were nothing earlier compared to now. She was staring down the long aisle, framed with various poisonous plants, with Gomez waiting at the end. She just had to focus on getting to Gomez, and everything would be alright. Someone handed her a bouquet of thorns and she was off on trembling legs.

She took a deep breath, which was rather difficult with how tight her corset was. She was still having trouble believing this was her reality now. In the blink of an eye she went from scrubbing fireplaces to trying on crowns. She went from being despised to being so bombarded with love it overwhelmed her completely. 

“Cara mia,” Gomez said, his voice dripping with adoration as she came to a halt beside him. “You are ravishing, you are exquisite, like nothing I have ever seen before in my life.” He took her hand, lifting it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on it. “Are you ready to start the rest of our lives?”

“Mon cher… I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

And, as the story goes, they lived happily unhappily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! I'm on tumblr @helloitshaley


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